


How Can I Kiss You...

by one_starry_knight



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_starry_knight/pseuds/one_starry_knight
Summary: Before the war began, before the Decepticons had begun to surface and the council had its immoral grip on Cybertron, a young scientist has fallen in love with a senator. What he fails to realize is that this romance will have lasting effects on nearly every aspect of his life, and then some.





	1. Turn and Face Me

**Author's Note:**

> In which young Perceptor and Shockwave are both different from their older, modern counterparts. Perceptor most of all, being overly emotional and talkative, but that will change. _Oh, how that will change._

Perceptor shifted uncomfortably as he watched the taller mech exit the council building and approach him, his hands worrying at his focus knobs on his arms. He’d have to remember to readjust his lense later; surely by now it was very out of focus. He had to admit, it was humbling seeing such a large mech standing in front of him. He knew he was short, but he’d never felt _small_ before.

“Perceptor, I presume?” The tall mech’s voice rumbled in Perceptor’s chest, and the small red bot brought a hand up to rest on the glass of his windshield. That felt rather strange.

“Yes, sir. Perceptor of Caminus.” Perceptor pushed his thoughts aside as he answered, tilting his helm back to meet the other’s gaze. He was large, intimidating… Alluring… Perceptor in-vented sharply, bringing a hand up to adjust his glasses as the larger mech leaned over him.

“Caminus? How odd, I’d thought all Camiens were--”

“That’s a misconception.” Perceptor interjected, his narrowed optics giving the taller mech a hint that he had perhaps overstepped a boundary. “Mech and femmes coexist on Caminus. Although, I suppose I understand where that assumption comes from; the most prominent Camiens are femmes.” He hesitates and the taller mech tilts his head, expecting there to be more to this outburst. Perceptor taps a finger to his chin, thinking a moment. “Perhaps, had things been different, I would’ve been among those femmes. But… I think being a mech suits me far better.” Perceptor mumbles.

The stranger blinked in surprise. That wasn’t at all what he had expected from the small, red mech. It seemed Perceptor’s sharp response was indeed warranted; it wasn’t really his business making such assumptions. A gentle smile worked its way across his face, and he nodded. “I see. I believe it does suit you. You make a rather handsome mech.”

Why did that comment feel..._strange_? Perceptor couldn’t quite pin the feeling down. He was sure it was just nerves. He’d have to think it over later. For the time being, he had more important matters to think about.

“You’re not much younger than me, it seems. Newly graduated from the Academy, I’d assume?” the other asked, turning to walk back towards the council building. The light glinted off of his deep purple plating, and Perceptor had to shake his head to refocus on the question rather than the beautiful coloration of the other mech’s armor.

“Yes, sir. I was top of my class. I was told I’m the best sniper they’ve seen in a long while.” Perceptor walked briskly behind the purple mech, his small steps no match for the other’s long strides.

“A sniper? But aren’t you the new representative of the science guild?”

“Yes, sir, I--”

“So formal. You’re aware you aren’t required to call me ‘sir’, correct?”

“Oh-- Oh! Yes, right. I apologize, I just hadn’t caught your name, so I had thought…”

The large, purple mech chuckled, grinning.

“I am Shockwave. Welcome to the council.”

* * *

Perceptor tapped his pen on his desk absentmindedly. He hadn’t quite been able to focus lately, his processor too full of plans for fieldwork. He hated desk work. It was odd that a scientist of his intellect would dislike sitting and theorizing so much, but he found it hard to enjoy writing down his ideas when he could be out in the field testing them. Ah, but science is a process. He had to have an idea before he could test one.

He sighed, looking across the lab to the window. It was night already? He hadn’t even noticed the day had gone by. He rubbed at his optics and set his pen down, leaning back in his chair. He could go home.

_Or_ he could pull an all nighter and impress everyone else in the lab when they saw his work completed and perfected.

Perceptor grinned and leaned back over his work, taking up his pen once again. He wasn’t typically the competitive type, but one of his coworkers, Wheeljack, brought out the worst in him. He couldn’t help a little friendly competition with his best friend.

As he had just begun scribbling something down, the sound of the door sliding open caught his attention. A certain purple mech strode confidently into the lab, carrying two cups.

“Good evening, Shockwave. A pleasure to see you in my humble laboratory.”

“Evening? Are you aware it’s nearly midnight? I’d gotten word from Wheeljack that you were still holed up here. I assumed you were most likely going to be here all night, so I felt it was only right that I bring you something to help you stay awake.” Shockwave set one of the cups on the desk just to the side of Perceptor’s work, though the cup quickly found itself in the red mech’s hands.

Perceptor sighed as he brought the drink close to his face, the sweet smell a welcome change to the smell of sanitary lab equipment. He savored it as he took a small drink, setting the cup back on his desk as he smiled up at Shockwave. “I was aware it was late, I just wasn’t aware of exactly how late. I had some work I wanted to finish before tomorrow.”

“It’s nearly tomorrow already, Percy.” Shockwave laughed, pulling a chair over to Perceptor’s desk so that he could join the other.

“It isn’t tomorrow until I’ve woken from recharging.” Perceptor responded matter of factly.

“And when will you recharge?”

“...Tomorrow.”

The small red mech pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold back his laughter, but failed, turning away from Shockwave as he giggled. Shockwave couldn’t help but laugh as well, his soft blue optics glinting with amusement. He leaned on his forearms onto Perceptor’s desk, tilting his head to the side as he smiled down at the other.

“Would you mind, then, if I stated here with you for the night? Perhaps you can educate me about your latest project.”

Perceptor hesitated.

“Please, stay with me. I… I would like that, very much.”

* * *

Council meetings were a bore for any young mech and despite typically being very focused when it came to important matters, Perceptor was still young and was not exempt from boredom. His mind wandered and he caught himself staring across the meeting room at Shockwave. He wondered if Shockwave was just as bored as he was. His gaze traveled down Shockwave’s frame onto the senator’s hands, which were folded delicately on his desk. Perceptor blinked thoughtfully. Shockwave’s hands looked soft. Maybe he could…

Perceptor’s attention snapped back to the council meeting, his back straightening as he realized what he’d been thinking. No, no that wasn’t something he should be thinking. Shockwave was a fellow council member, their relationship was strictly professional. He couldn’t think those kinds of things about a coworker. But still…

The meeting came to a close and Perceptor walked away from it without having retained anything Ultra Magnus had said. He had been too preoccupied. He sighed and slid his fingers under his glasses to rub at his eyes. He needed to clear his head somehow, but--

“Percy.”

Perceptor turned towards the source of the voice and his eyes met Shockwave’s, who was smiling that gentle smile of his. That infuriatingly gentle smile. Why did he have to have such a cute smile? Though as he approached, that smile faltered and was replaced by a look of concern.

“You kept looking at me during the meeting. Is something the matter?” Shockwave cocked his head to the side. The antenna on the sides of his head perked upward and Perceptor bit his bottom lip. Oh, now that was too cute.

“I was simply… I was thinking about…” Perceptor lifted his hands to fold them over his chest, as he did when he was nervous, but Shockwave reached out and caught one of his hands in his own. Perceptor had to stop himself from audibly gasping as he blinked up at the purple mech. Shockwave was grinning. That stupid, handsome grin.

“Would you like to go somewhere tonight?”

* * *

It had been months since the first time they’d gone out together. It was nothing more than fun outings where they talked and joked and simply enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice being able to relax around each other. The professional relationship had fallen away to reveal a wonderful kind of friendship that Perceptor didn’t have with anyone else. Sure, Wheeljack was his best friend and the two of them got up to all sorts of things as well, but it never felt as… Free as this.

As the two stopped in front of Perceptor’s habsuite, Shockwave gently nudged the smaller bot’s shoulder to get his attention. “Would you be interested in another date tomorrow night?”

Perceptor fumbled the lock on his door and his keycard clattered against the floor, the silence following it feeling heavy on his shoulders. He turned his head towards the other, his surprised expression meeting Shockwave’s expectant gaze.

“Date? Was… Was this a date?”

“Of course. We’ve been going on dates for some time now. What did you think they were?”

“I-- I just thought…” Perceptor laughed nervously, his face flushed as he covered his mouth with one hand. “It didn't occur to me that we were going on dates.”

There was silence for a moment, then Perceptor gasped as Shockwave’s hand wrapped around his waist and pulled a bit him closer. He didn’t look up at the other, his head turned away as he brought his hands up to cover his face. His face felt hot, too hot. Deep down he’d hoped Shockwave was interested in him, but now that he realized he always was...

“Percy, look at me.”

“I’m-- I’m sorry, I’m just a bit surprised-- nervous? Yes, nervous perhaps. I didn’t think you’d even considered me to be--”

“Percy, please look at me.”

Perceptor buries his face deeper into his hands as he continues to ramble. Shockwave smiles and brings Perceptor even closer to his frame, a hand working its way past Perceptor’s hands to gently caress the smaller mech’s cheek. Perceptor pulls his hands away slightly, enough to see the other as Shockwave gently guides him to look up at him. Shockwave begins to lean down towards Perceptor, his voice soft,

“How can I kiss you if you won’t look at me?”


	2. I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perceptor and Shockwave have been going steady for a while, but when Shockwave finally returns home after having been whisked away by the council, the couple begin to see that things are changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today we say "fuck actual TFA canon, we're here for the drama"  
trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you

How long had it been since Shockwave had been spirited away by the Council? Perceptor had lost track. Too long it felt like. The days had been awfully lonely since and it was getting harder and harder for Perceptor to enjoy spending time with his friends. Wheeljack and Mainframe were very concerned, but there wasn’t much they could do. “We just gotta keep bein’ there for him. Maybe we should invite him out more... Even if he says ‘no’, at least he won’t think we’re ignoring him.” Perceptor had overheard Wheeljack talking in the hall one afternoon. He knew he was the one Wheeljack was talking about.

He didn’t want help, he just wanted Shockwave back safe and sound. Perceptor cringed at the thought of what the council could be doing to the mech he’d come to love. As a council member himself, he knew the things they did. The horrific things they did. But, he had no say in the matter, and when the senator had been whisked away, Perceptor’s communication with the rest of the council was cut off.

Perceptor rolled over to be face down on his berth. He’d been tossing and turning all night and was so unbearably exhausted, but he couldn’t bring himself to recharge. Not when the rest of the berth was empty. He hadn’t realized how important Shockwave was to him, how much he cared for the other’s safety and well being. And now that the council was possibly hurting him, doing horrid things to him, Perceptor realized just how much he wished things were different.

He shifted, curling into himself. Why did he have to feel so strongly? Why couldn’t he have simply felt emotions normally like everyone else? Why did he have to be burdened with such strong, painful feelings? He mentally cursed himself. He wished his emotions didn’t hurt so much.

A sound at the door of the habsuite roused him from his thoughts. He hadn’t reacted to the sounds at the door these past few… However long it’d been since this all started. When Wheeljack and Mainframe came to his door asking him out for the night, he’d simply ignored it. When Red Alert had come by asking if she could check on him, he’d ignored her as well. But this sound brought him out of his thoughts with a start. The door had opened.

Only Shockwave had the other key to the habsuite, and Perceptor sat up quickly at the thought that he’d finally come home. The small, red mech jumped off the berth, leaving behind his glasses that he’d taken off earlier when first trying to recharge. He stumbled blindly through the habsuite towards the door, keeping on hand on the walls so that he wouldn’t walk into anything.

He could see the shape of Shockwave standing just in front of the door, not really moving. Excitement rushed through Perceptor and he took a running start into the arms of his beloved. Or, he would have if Shockwave had reciprocated his hug. Shockwave stood quiet and unmoving.

“I’m so glad you’re home! I was-- I was worried that they were doing such horrible-- horrible things to you…” Perceptor’s vocoder hitched as emotion surged through him and he buried his face deeper into the other’s frame.

When Shockwave didn’t respond, Perceptor lifted his head up to look the other in the eyes. Without his glasses, he couldn’t quite tell what was wrong, but something was definitely off about Shockwave’s face. It seemed caught in a permanent shadow, but Perceptor brushed off the thought, assuming it was simply the lighting in the room.

“Is something wrong…? Shockwave…?”

“Where are your glasses.”

It sounded less like a question and more like a demand, and Perceptor stepped back with a confused glance back towards the berth. “I left them on the table next to the…” His voice trailed off as he realized Shockwave was wanting him to actually retrieve his glasses. He stumbled back to the berth, running his hand along it to guide himself to the side table. He picked the pair of yellow lenses up nervously, glancing back to look at the form by the door. Shockwave hadn’t moved. He ex-vented shakily as he brought the lenses up to his face, the magnetic snap as they popped into place making him cringe.

“Shockwave…”

Shockwave straightened up, angling his head so Perceptor could see his face better.

Or rather, his lack of one.

His face was featureless, dark and empty with a singular, deep red optic in the middle. Perceptor’s gaze traveled down the other’s frame to his hands… Where they were supposed to be, at least. The long, sharp claws now taking their place made the red mech shudder. He hesitated, taking an instinctive step back away from Shockwave. He didn’t mean it to hurt the other’s feelings, he was just so in shock he…

Shockwave growled lowly, turning sharply and bringing a claw up to open the door so he could leave. Perceptor ran towards him, wrapping his arms around the other, his face pressed against Shockwave’s slender frame.

“Please don’t go, don’t leave again! I’m sorry, I-- I was just surprised, I didn’t know you-- you had been--”

“You’re beginning to ramble again.”

Perceptor bit his bottom lip. He rambled when he was nervous. He’d rambled when they first met and he was rambling now. He just didn’t know how else to work through all the emotions he was feeling.

There was silence for what felt like an eternity, then Shockwave spoke, “I’m going to the rally in Kaon tomorrow. The Decepticon protests have been gaining more traction and… and I believe I’d like to join them.”

“You’re going to align yourself with them?” Perceptor was taken aback. “But why? They’re a violent radicalist group, their goals are--”

“Their goals are to change the way the council is run. To fix… everything. After what the council did to me, I believe we are indeed in need of change.”

“But, Shockwave--”

“But nothing!” Shockwave snaps as he turns around, roughly pulling away from Perceptor’s grasp. His red optic focuses down on the smaller mech and Perceptor can see his own terrified expression in the reflection. Shockwave’s posture shifted at the sight of the other’s fear and he relaxed his claws, not realizing he’d clenched them so hard in the first place. His face was expressionless, but Perceptor could almost feel the other’s surprise at his own outburst.

“I… I apologize, Perceptor… I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Perceptor doesn’t respond. He takes weak steps backward until he’d backed against the end of the berth, his hand settling atop the soft metal to keep himself supported. He sits down, his optics fixed on the ground.

“First the council takes you from me and now you return a Decepticon sympathizer…”

“The existence of the Decepticons is the council’s own doing. If it weren’t for their immoral practices, their disgusting treatment of their own citizens, their... their inaction when Cybertron needs it most, there would be no need for such a change. You are seeing first hand their punishment for those who dare speak out. Do you still not agree that something needs to be done?” Shockwave’s voice is soft as he moves to stand in front of the small mech he’s come to love so dearly.

“I-- I don’t know, I’m just…” Perceptor puts a hand to his face as he tries to process the situation. He isn’t sure what to think about it all. He agreed that something needed to change, something needed to be done. If the council was willing to turn against its own when faced with a differing opinion, then yes, something must be done. Yet… The Decepticons’ method seemed so… Wrong. So dangerous.

Shockwave brought himself down onto his knees in front of his love, his face mere inches away from the other’s.

“Do you still love me like this?”

The question hit Perceptor hard, his vocoder catching as he tried to answer, “Of course, I-- Of course, I do!” He lifted a hand shakily, touching the new, dark metal of Shockwave’s face lightly. “Decepticon or not… Empurata or not… I couldn’t have chosen a better mech to fall in love with. We… We can make this work.”

Shockwave said nothing, simply lifting his arms to wrap around Perceptor’s midsection. He leaned forward until his forhelm was pressed against the smaller mech’s shoulder. “Look what they’ve done to me, Percy…” Perceptor leaned the side of his helm against Shockwave’s, his arms wrapping around the other’s neck gently. His spark ached, but he said nothing, listening quietly as Shockwave continued,

“How can I kiss you with a face like this?”


	3. Enemy Spotted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war rages on and Perceptor comes face to face with Shockwave for what he believes is the last time.

_ “You’ve seen what the rest of the council is doing. You’ve seen the corruption. You’ve seen… You can see what they’ve done to me. The Decepticon cause is merely attempting to right the wrongs put in place by the council.” _

_ “I… I understand, but it seems like they’re going about it the wrong way. I grow wary of when the Decepticons decide to turn their protest into violence. I wish things were different, I promise I do! But this… This isn’t the way to do it!” _

* * *

The faint memories of his last conversation with Perceptor looped in Shockwave’s processor. It always did after a successful kill. Whether it was out of guilt from proving Perceptor right or some sort of grotesque pride in what he was doing for his cause, he was never sure. That felt like it had been ages ago. And perhaps it was. It had been shortly before Ultra Magnus had put the Decepticon Registration Act into place. Shortly before Decepticons began disappearing and reappearing with different personalities, different ideology; brainwashed beyond repair.

First empurata, then the brainwashing of Cybertron’s citizens for displaying a different philosophy than what the Council wants. Now, the war. Well, perhaps the war isn’t the Council’s doing, but Shockwave still felt contempt towards them for pushing it this far.

Shockwave trudged over the bodies of his most recent kills. Poor Autobots, so small and fragile. He almost felt sorry for them. Almost. He looked over each of their damaged and lifeless forms, studying one particular ‘Bot. The singular optic and claws of the Autobot made Shockwave let out a soft growl.  _ A victim of empurata, yet you still fought alongside your oppressors, _ he thought.  _ Shameful _ .

The soft sound of footsteps and quick movement out of the corner of his optic brought him from his thoughts and Shockwave turned his helm sharply. He caught a brief glimpse of a small frame duck behind debris and laughed quietly. How foolish. No Autobot could escape his grasp, though he had to give this little ‘Bot credit for trying.

Rounding the rubble the Autobot had fled behind, he tensed his claws, ready to crush the ‘Bot with his bare servos. The clank of a gun against his helm as he loomed over the Autobot made him freeze, but that wasn’t what caught Shockwave off guard. The red Autobot below him stiffened, a small gasp escaping him.

“Perceptor,” Shockwave growled lowly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Interesting meeting you here.” He made a motion towards the bodies of Autobots he’d only just killed. If he had a mouth, he’d be smirking. “I do hope you didn’t need those.”

“Back away. Slowly.” Perceptor’s grip on his gun tightened, his shoulders stiff. He in-vented deeply to try and keep his calm appearance, though that facade quickly fell away as Shockwave gripped the gun and leaned his forehelm against the barrel.

_ “Why do you hesitate?” _

Perceptor’s servos began to shake. He had a digit on the trigger, so why couldn’t he do it? Why couldn’t he do what he was expected to as an Autobot? He in-vented, struggling to form an answer.

“It’s not the Autobot way to kill. And because… because, it hurts.”

Shockwave leans back, cocking his helm at the statement

“I can’t kill you. It hurts.” Perceptor lowers the gun slowly. “It’s illogical and stupid to be so overwhelmed by my emotions, but I can’t… I can’t kill you. I… I think I still love you.”

Shockwave is silent for a moment and Perceptor could swear the larger mech’s expression softened. He lifted a servo and gently drew a claw along Perceptor’s jaw. Perceptor would have leaned into the touch if Shockwave hadn’t suddenly pulled his arm back. Perceptor gasped as Shockwave thrust his servo against him, his helm slamming into the rumble he’d been seated in front of as long claws gripped roughly at his throat.

“Oh, my dear Perceptor, always feeling so strongly, always too caught up in your emotions. I do wonder how your commanders would react knowing you’d so easily ignore your cause simply because you can’t control your emotions.” Shockwave’s grip tightened on the smaller mech as he continued, “I, however, have no qualms about killing you here and now. It’s nothing personal. Rather, it’s no longer personal.”

Perceptor writhed in his grasp and Shockwave could hear the soft metal creaking as he gradually tightened his grip. He stopped just short of killing the smaller mech as he faintly heard what he thought was the other speaking.

“Ah, I suppose that’s right. I’d forgotten to ask. Any last words?” He asked with a sadistic tone to his voice. His grip loosened only slightly, enough to let Perceptor speak.

“Decepticon… or not--” Perceptor’s vocoder caught as Shockwave’s grip tightened once again. If he could have, he’d have scowled at the smaller mech, his frame stiffening as the rest of the sentence replayed in the back of his mind.

_ We can make this work. _

Suddenly his servo wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t finish the job when he was so close already. If he wanted, he could kill Perceptor now and finally clear his conscience. But he couldn’t.

Shockwave released Perceptor and watched the other hit the ground unceremoniously. He ex-vented and turned his back towards the red mech, his voice low, “I need you to pass on a message. Tell your commanders never to return here. This area is now Decepticon controlled and any Autobots will be executed on sight.” He pauses, “Go on. Before I change my mind.”

He doesn’t look back as the sound of hurried footsteps grows further and further. Once the footsteps are out of earshot, he begins his trek back to base, the crumbling buildings surrounding him too close to one another for him to transform. The phrase Perceptor uttered sits at the back of his mind, his memory filling in the rest of the sentence.  _ We can make this work. _

He clenches his claws, slamming his fist violently into a nearby wall. We can make this work, the phrase repeated in his mind and he almost began to feel as though Perceptor was mocking him. It hadn’t worked. They didn’t make it work. Like every other person on Cybertron who had someone close to them choose a different side, they didn’t make it work. And unlike Perceptor, who had joined the Autobots alongside all of his dearest friends, Shockwave had chosen his side alone.

How could they have made it work when their affiliations pulled them in such different directions? Their morals no longer aligned and their thoughts on the council and on the Decepticon movement had  _ never  _ aligned. They were far too different by now to even begin to try and make it work.

Yet, Shockwave hesitated. He had, deep down, wished they had made it work. He had hoped that perhaps… Perhaps Perceptor would come to his senses and see that what the Decepticons were doing, from the small political movements to the war itself, were noble. Shockwave believed it, so why couldn’t Perceptor?

He didn’t want to admit how much he missed the smaller bot. He hated the things Perceptor had chosen for himself, but he still couldn’t bring himself to hate Perceptor. He missed their little dates, their long talks at night, how wonderful it felt to wrap his arms around the scientist’s small frame… He missed the delicate kisses along his helm…  _ Oh, how he missed that. _

He mentally scolded himself for getting so lost in these thoughts, shaking his helm.

“How can I kiss him when he’s the enemy?”


	4. Emotions, or Lack Thereof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shockwave has finally infiltrated the Autobot council as Longarm Prime, head of Autobot intelligence. He's there on a mission for Megatron, but plans quickly change as he has a new, temporary goal: to get answers.

“It ain’t my business what Percy wants to do with his own processor, I’m just here to support him when he needs it,” Wheeljack said with a wave of his servo. His optics dropped back down to the device he was tinkering with on his desk and he began working at it again, seemingly done with the conversation. Mainframe, however, wasn’t satisfied with that response. He made a face, unsure how to feel.

“But, deleting his emotions, his personality… Won’t that do irreversible damage? Are you really going to help him hurt himself?” Mainframe protested, leaning over Wheeljack’s desk to meet the scientist’s optics. Wheeljack hesitated, his servos tightening around the project he’d been working on.

“Percy didn’t protest when you asked me to secretly help you remove your t-cog. Wasn’t his place to. It ain’t your place to protest his choices, either.”

Mainframe leaned up and stepped back from the desk, optics narrowing. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his vocoder. With a huff, he spun on his heels, ready to walk off, but he hesitated. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Wheeljack put his face in his servos.

“I know you would do anything for him, but are you really okay with this?” Mainframe asked. He didn’t expect a response; he knew the answer already. He wanted to say more, but there was nothing left to say.

The door to the lab slid open quietly as Mainframe left and Wheeljack was once again alone. He examined the device in his servos. A gift for Perceptor. A simple little trinket, nothing more than a fidget toy for Perceptor to keep on his desk and play with when he got bored. Wheeljack turned the little cube over in his servos, examining each button and switch and noisemaker on the silly device. He ex-vented as he set it down, rubbing his optics.

Opening a compartment on his desk, he brushed the device into it. He closed the compartment and stood, putting a servo up to his com.

“Alright, Percy. I’m free now, so if you’re wantin’ to do this, let’s do it.”

* * *

There’s silence as Mainframe and Wheeljack simply watch Perceptor work. He was normally a rather chatty bot, but today was different. It was the first day since Perceptor had had his emotions deleted.

It wasn’t a permanent change, Wheeljack had pointed out, as emotions could come back over time or be triggered by an outside stimulus. They would have to repeat the process regularly. But this was merely a test run. No one was really sure how things would turn out, so for now they simply had to experiment and observe.

Mainframe was becoming restless, unsure how to feel about the whole thing. His optics met Wheeljack’s and a look of unease flashed across his features, the look in his optics almost screaming ‘Do something.’ Wheeljack ex-vented and moved away from his workstation, snatching up something from his desk that Mainframe couldn’t quite see. The mad scientist moved across the room to Perceptor’s side, his free servo coming to rest on the smaller scientist’s shoulder. Perceptor didn’t stop what he was working on at his desk, merely glancing towards Wheeljack, not meeting the other’s gaze.

“Percy, Percy, look what I finished,” Wheeljack chirped as he held out his servo. The small toy he’d made before they’d begun the emotion removal process nearly rolled out of his servo as he held it closer to Perceptor. When Perceptor didn’t respond, Wheeljack took the small bot’s servo and pressed the device into his palm, patting it before letting go.

“You mentioned you have trouble focusin’ sometimes while you work, so Mainframe helped me do some studies on stuff to help you focus. We had this idea of a toy that keeps your servos busy so your processor has a chance to--”

“Thank you, Wheeljack, but it’s no longer necessary.” Perceptor interrupted, his monotone voice sending chills through both Wheeljack and Mainframe. He held out his servo to hand the toy back and Wheeljack’s spark sank. He hesitated, lifting a servo to wave away Perceptor’s. “No, no, keep it. Might still come in handy.” He ex-vents, “I figured you’d like it, I even had it painted your favorite color.”

Perceptor blinks, hesitating. His optics twitch and Wheeljack thinks for a moment that Perceptor’s emotions are already working their way back into his processor. He secretly hoped that the procedure was a failure, that Perceptor’s emotions would reset within the day and he’d have his favorite little scientist back.

“I don’t see the need for something so useless.”

Wheeljack nearly fell over, the words the final devastating blow to his already breaking spark. He couldn’t form a response, nothing to defend the ‘useless’ gift that he’d, in truth, spent quite some time perfecting. It was a heartfelt gesture, but now that Perceptor no longer felt anything, it was a pointless act.

Perceptor finally met Wheeljack’s optics and he cocked his head, his face expressionless. Yet… Wheeljack could see the metaphorical gears turning in Perceptor’s processor. The red mech looked back down to the toy and hesitated, running a digit over one of the little buttons, which clicked at his touch. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words formed, as if he was missing something he couldn’t quite place. He clicked the button again then set the toy off to the side, returning to his work.

“Thank you, Wheeljack, the gesture is…” Perceptor blinked, searching for the right word. “Appreciated.” The word didn’t feel right without the proper emotion to accompany it and Wheeljack nearly flinched at how empty it sounded. The smaller scientist returned to his work without another word and Wheeljack was left in painful silence. That was that.

Wheeljack crossed the room to where Mainframe was sitting with his helm in his servos. He caught a glimpse of the datapad on Mainframe’s workstation. The report on the emotion deletion procedure. The last line of the report made Wheeljack tense.

_ The procedure was a success. _

* * *

“It’s nice to meet you, Longarm! If you ever need anything, the Science Guild is at your service. We’re a bit of an odd bunch, but I think you’ll find we’re all quite personable!” Mainframe absolutely beamed as he shook Longarm’s servo, his optics seeming to sparkle behind his visor. Sentinel groaned, rolling his optics, “Personable isn’t the word I’d use on a certain member of your ranks.”

Sentinel narrows his optics down at the red mech standing to the side of Mainframe, who was pouring himself into a datapad that no doubt contained some important thesis he was working on. Perceptor lifted his helm to look Sentinel in the optics, his icy stare making the Elite Guard soldier stiffen. “Sentinel, I would advise you to keep your snide comments to yourself. I should not have to remind you, I outrank you.” Sentinel tsk’d, turning to avoid Perceptor’s gaze. The scientist shifted his gaze over to Longarm. He held out a servo, which Longarm hesitantly shook.

“Perceptor.”

“Longarm Prime, a pleasure. I’m the--”

“New head of Autobot intelligence, I’m aware. I read your files.”

Longarm stiffened, retracting his servo quickly. _ I may have forged my files perfectly, but if any bot can figure out my identity, it’s going to be him, _ Longarm thought, his composure slipping ever so slightly. “I see. Do you read everyone’s files?” Longarm tried to smile, the lingering unease sitting at the back of his processor.

“Indeed. I have…” Perceptor hesitates, “Trouble interacting with new people. I read about everyone ahead of time to better understand the kind of person they are and how to approach them. And I am sure you have just as much information about me at your disposal, given your position.”

“I do, though I don’t intend to use it quite the way you do.”

“I would hope not, you have better things to be doing. Now, if you will excuse me.” Perceptor steps away from the group, turning to head off down the corridor towards the labs. Mainframe glances to Perceptor and then to Longarm, smiling, “I think he likes you. He doesn’t usually warm up to newbies that fast.” He spins on his heels and starts jogging off after Perceptor, waving over his shoulder to Longarm. “I have to get going, too, but it was nice meeting you! Drop by the lab sometime!”

Once Mainframe and Perceptor were both out of sight, Sentinel relaxes, elbowing Longarm, “Ignore the mono, he’s lonely so he thinks anyone who even looks at him wants to ‘hang out’ with him. Kinda pathetic, if you ask me.”

“He didn’t seem so bad, although… I knew the head of the science guild works here, but I didn’t expect him to be quite so...” Longarm’s voice trails off as he glances down the corridor. Sentinel shrugs and rolls his neck with a sigh, “Right, Perceptor. Listen, the bot is smart, but if you ask me, he's a few screws short of a full processor. Or a few emotions short.”

Longarm cocks his helm to the side, a confused look on his face. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure I understand.”

“I guess you didn’t hear, but that little desk jockey had his personality subroutines deleted a back during the war. He talked about wanting to clear out room in his processor for more knowledge or something equally stupid.” Sentinel leans down to the shorter bot, whispering, “Most of us think he’s lying. I’ve heard he did something during the war he isn’t proud of and didn’t want to feel guilty anymore.”

Sentinel straightened back up and spun on his heels, walking off with a wave of his servo. “But only those other science bots know the truth and I’m pretty sure Perceptor made them swear to secrecy or something. Now, come on, I’ll show you to your office.” Longarm followed behind him, only half listening. He kept thinking back to what Sentinel had said about Perceptor. The little red mech was so unassuming, what could he have possibly done that he felt guilty enough to delete his emotions over? It didn’t make sense to him.

As the day drew to a close, Longarm stepped into his office alone and allowed himself to shift into his true form, into Shockwave. He sat at his desk and tapped his claws absentmindedly as his conversation with Sentinel replayed in the back of his mind. He typed something into his computer, pulling up Perceptor’s files. He clenched his claws as he read over the files, each sentence reminding him of something from his past with the scientist. That is, until he reached a section of the files he thought didn’t even exist.

“Infractions? Well now, what have you been getting up to?” Shockwave muttered, skimming the list.

Attempted reversal of empurata.

Shockwave’s shoulders dropped as he read the details of this ‘crime.’ Of course it had something to do with him. Nobody simply attempts to reverse empurata for fun. He knew that if Perceptor weren’t so impossibly intelligent he would’ve been imprisoned for it. Ultra Magnus wouldn’t have tolerated something like that otherwise. He only let Perceptor keep his job because he was useful.

Shockwave growled, digging his claws into his desk. That’s what he hated about the way the Autobots ran Cybertron. That was the thing Megatron had stood against. The council only caring who was and wasn’t useful. Maybe things had changed the last few centuries, maybe they hadn’t, but Shockwave still felt contempt for the Autobots.

He continues to skim Perceptor’s files, his optic landing on the section regarding his lack of emotion. Nothing conclusive, merely quotes on the matter from Perceptor himself. He could’ve said anything about why he did it and everyone would have to believe him because he was the only one who knew the truth.

Shockwave would have to do a field study.

* * *

“Longarm Prime! I knew you couldn’t resist hanging out with us.” Mainframe was grinning wide enough to split his face and Longarm had to force himself to smile back. “Actually, I came to speak with Perceptor. Privately.”

“Oh, I see… He’s in his office. I think the door is unlocked, but if not just ask and I’ll unlock it for you,” Mainframe nodded, his grin gone. He made a motion towards a door across the room, the plaque on it reading “Perceptor - Ministry of Science.” Longarm thanked Mainframe and went on his way, the door to Perceptor’s office opening with a stutter. He stepped into the small room carefully, taking note of how unbelievably cluttered it was. Despite the way Perceptor acted, it seemed he was just as disorganized and all over the place as his coworkers. Perhaps that was an aspect of being a scientist that no one discussed.

“Your door seems to be damaged,” Longarm said, tilting his head in the direction of the door.

Perceptor looked up from his work, humming quietly. “I am aware. Wheeljack is a bit of a, shall we say, destructive mech. I have asked him to fix the door at his earliest convenience, though that was…” Perceptor narrowed his optics, looking at his computer screen for a moment. “That was some time ago. I am used to it by now. In any case, is there something you need?”

Longarm crossed the small room and pulled an empty chair up to the red mech’s desk, making sure not to disturb any of the datapads and half complete machinery littering the floor. He crossed his servos and nodded, “Yes, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. Sentinel Prime said some things yesterday that--”

“If you are wanting to know how to report any bigoted comments Sentinel has made, you can report such things directly to Ultra Magnus. There is a form you will need to fill out, but it is incredibly simple.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Longarm said, resisting the urge to laugh. He knew Sentinel was pretty bad about the things he said from his time in boot camp. Having Sentinel as a drill sergeant was nearly as bad, in his opinion, as having Magnus for a commander. But, if Perceptor came to that conclusion so quickly, he had to wonder what kind of things Sentinel had been saying. “Although, he did call your associate a ‘mono’ in a tone that I felt was rather hateful.”

“Sentinel has some incredibly outdated ideology when it comes to those who have chosen to reject their alt-mode. He has been barred from the laboratory for such reasons.”

“How unprofessional. Regardless, that’s not why I’m here. I hope you don’t mind me asking you something… Personal when we’ve only met yesterday.”

Perceptor cocked his helm, optics narrowing, “Personal? What has Sentinel told you?”

Longarm brought a servo up to his face, tapping a digit on his chin as he thought how to word his question. He ex-vented, deciding to just say it outright, rather than figure up some elaborate way to dance around the question. “Sentinel Prime mentioned you had your personality subroutines deleted. If it isn’t too personal, may I ask why? I read your files last night, but they didn’t contain anything substantial on the matter.”

Of course. Perceptor ex-vented, leaning back in his seat and folding his servos on his lap. He turned his helm to study a picture he had framed over a nearby cabinet, his optics searching it as if it held the answer he was looking for. And it truth, perhaps it did. Longarm glanced over to the picture and suddenly the answer dawned on him. The picture was of himself, rather his true form as Shockwave, with Perceptor, Mainframe, and Wheeljack. It was of their trip to Maccadam’s on its opening night. He remembered that date well; a double date between himself and Perceptor and Mainframe and Wheeljack.

“If you must know,” Perceptor spoke, pulling Longarm from his memories. “And I’m sure you must, as the new head of Autobot intelligence, I felt my emotions were hindering my progress during the war. I was told once that… That I feel too strongly. I was told I was too caught up in my emotions.”

Longarm flinched. He had said that.

“It was keeping me from doing my duty for the Autobot cause. The war is long over, as you know, but now I believe it would be too difficult to readjust to having emotions again. So, until I feel I am able to retire from my position and settle down, I will remain as I am now. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

Longarm couldn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. There was a feeling of rage building in the back of his processor and he knew he couldn’t stay any longer. He stood up, turning towards the door. “No, that’s all. Thank you for your time.”

“Longarm, if you would wait a moment.”

Longarm jolted, not wanting to be around Perceptor for any longer than he had to be. He turned to look back at the other, his servos clenched as he attempted to keep his composure. Perceptor blinked, studying his face for what felt like an eternity.

“Never mind. I was trying to place where I have seen you before now, but I can’t quite recall. You do look familiar, however.” Perceptor said, returning to his work.

“We’ve never met before.” Longarm said curtly, his tone betraying his expression. He turned back to the door, seeing himself out. He didn’t even acknowledge Mainframe as he walked briskly out of the lab. He was too blinded by rage. He’d gotten an answer, but it was one he didn’t want. _ He thinks that lowly of me? _ He thought.

_ I mean so little to him that he would delete his feelings for me? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't make the whole "how can I..." motif I've had at the end of the other chapters work for this one sadly, but oh well. its there in spirit.
> 
> for a chapter summary please refer to [this image](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/459390872287445011/623109583862497280/image0.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> On a final note, fuck canon I'm making shit up as I go. My town now.


End file.
